


Lost

by DarthBones



Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Guild Wars 2: Heart of Thorns, Interspecies Romance, M/M, a wee bit of cutesy self-indulgent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 11:17:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17917739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthBones/pseuds/DarthBones
Summary: Sometimes the best way to find romance is to get lost in a mordrem infested jungle together.





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Lagg is my Asura Thief  
> Ulrich is my Norn Necromancer  
> Laxxal is my Asura Ranger and Lagg's younger sister

Lagg is dimly aware of being wrapped in furs and of a warmth that cannot be fully explained by only furs. Groggily, he puzzles at this, and slowly realizes he is moving. There's something else on the edge of his awareness that's bothering him, something important, but what?   
He’s jostled dramatically but not dislodged as whatever is moving him so rapidly drops some distance and apparently rolls across the ground before leaping up and continuing at a breakneck pace.  
A familiar sound starts to break through his fuzzy thoughts.   
Mordrem.   
That realization snaps him fully awake. Immediately he wishes it hadn't as he is hit by a wave of debilitating pain. He must've groaned or made some sound of distress for the person carrying him speaks reassuringly, if somewhat breathlessly.   
“I'm here, Lagg. We're almost safe. Just hold on.”   
Who?  
He tries to think back.   
He had followed Laxxal and the Pact to Maguuma.   
No. That's too far back.  
Scouting. Raiding? Yes. He had volunteered to raid a mordrem prison camp. He'd been overconfident. He'd gone in alone.   
Getting in had been easy but as soon as he had started opening cages all hell had broken loose. There'd been more mordrem in the upper branches he hadn't seen. Most of the people he busted out fell to arrows within minutes. He ran from cage to cage and told the occupants to run, hoping that some would make it.   
An observant mordrem had predicted his stealthed movements and sent him flying with something. He must've blacked out.   
So how?  
They start to slow. Carefully, he tries to shift his position so he can see the face of his rescuer. In the process he realizes that his rescuer must be norn, and a huge norn at that. All he can see is a broad, hairy chest and a furry garment of some sort that's been converted into an improvised harness for Lagg's small frame, no doubt so the norn can carry him while keeping their hands free.   
The norn speaks, softly, and there's something familiar about the deep voice.   
“I think I lost them. Might've gotten us lost too but.” They stop moving and Lagg feels almost nauseous from the sudden stillness. Large hands begin to carefully unwind the harness from around Lagg's body and he's set gently on the ground. His back feels like it's on fire and now he's on the ground he feels intensely dizzy.   
Oh dear. 

Ulrich feels almost amused as he watches Lagg pass out again. Little guy should be dead after a hit like that; he's tougher than he remembered or ever suspected. Ulrich surveys their surroundings with a practiced eye and then gently scoops Lagg up and carries him to a hollow between two enormous roots, big enough for the two of them with just enough spare room to pull some leaves across the entrance, hopefully hiding them from wildlife and mordrem alike.   
Then he turns to the task of tending Lagg's injuries. He suspects there must be internal damage and starts searching around for something sharp. A jagged rock catches his eye. He slices his arm with it, gritting his teeth as he discovers it was less sharp than he’d hoped. No matter, pain is passing. Resting his hand on Lagg’s back, he feels the wound slowly close beneath. Lagg’s breathing calms noticeably and the painful grimace on his face passes. Ulrich tears a bit of his already shredded coat off and wraps his arm. He can heal it properly later. Right now he’d rather conserve his energy. Hesitantly, he pulls Lagg into his arms and settles into as comfortable a position as he can manage in the small space. 

Lagg feels almost oppressively warm as he awakens. He also feels strangely vulnerable but isn’t sure why. Opening his eyes, he gets his first glimpse of his rescuer’s face.   
So close? Wh?   
An orange beard is practically brushing his forehead. He fidgets and tries to lean back so he can see more. The norn starts and almost drops him.   
“Sorry! I must’ve dozed off. Could’ve gotten us killed.” Lagg can hear the self-recrimination in the norn’s words and speaks.   
“How long were you running before you found this place?”   
“Hard to say. Felt like hours. Might only have been minutes. Can’t see the sun through all the trees.”   
“A nap is well-earned, I should think.” The norn only grunts noncommittally. “Um.”  
“Hm?”  
“Just a question, nothing meant by it, but, why am I in your arms?”  
There’s a long, uncomfortable, and Lagg suspects embarrassed, pause. “Didn’t want you to get cold.”   
“Ah. Appreciate the thought, but we are in the jungle, and I am in fact feeling a bit mm...cooked.”   
The norn lowers him to the ground; Lagg looks back up and feels himself visibly pale.   
Him? Here?? Holding me???   
Lagg’s cheeks warm and he silently curses himself.   
Please just think it’s because of the blood loss.  
“So you...recognize me.”   
Oh, you have no idea.  
He tries to play it cool. “Yes, I believe we met when I was in college? I’m afraid I don’t recall your name.” The norn’s face falls a little and Lagg immediately regrets the lie. “Wait, don’t tell me.” He pretends to think, placing one claw against his chin. “Ulrich?”  
Beaming now, the norn extends a huge hand toward Lagg. “Ulrich Horngebläse is what I go by now.”   
Lagg chuckles and wraps one hand around a couple fingers. He thinks back to when he’d made a casual study of norn titles and names. “How does one become known as Horn-blower anyway?”   
Lagg is delighted to see Ulrich’s face turn pink. “It uh. It involves a lot of alcohol and a stolen charr tank.”   
Lagg’s face splits into a toothy grin. “Stolen tank? Sounds like I had an effect on you before you went home.”   
“More than you can possibly realize.” There’s a seriousness in Ulrich’s tone and a look in his bright eyes that makes a part of Lagg feel hopeful before he quickly quashes it.   
Lagg clears his throat and oh so casually changes the subject.   
“Any idea where we are?” Ulrich shrugs his huge shoulders and Lagg can’t help but notice the way his muscles shine in the heat.   
For alchemy’s sake, Lagg.   
“The camp I found you in was due west of a Pact camp, as long as they weren’t overrun. Do you know which direction you ran?”  
“South? I think? There’s a lot of obstacles to avoid and I had to go around a couple drop-offs but mostly south. I think. We shouldn’t go back that way though. The mordrem might still be looking for us.”   
“Hm. I have spent a not insubstantial amount of time scouting around in this jungle. Perhaps if we get moving, I will recognize something and be able to direct us back to friendly territory.”   
“Pretty big if.”  
“Would you rather sit in this hole and wait for something to come along and eat us?”  
“...Fair point.”

Lagg was still weak from his injury. Ulrich could see him struggling to hide it, but he’d been around too many stubborn idiots to fall for it.   
“Let me carry you. You’ll get a better view of the surroundings from up here anyway.”   
“Different, but not necessarily better. What if I fail to recognize a landmark because of the change in angle and-” His argument is cut off by a sharp intake of breath. Ulrich is pretty sure that Lagg shouldn’t be sweating that much, even in this heat.   
“You almost died, Lagg. Let me take care of you.”   
Lagg nods, once, so Ulrich sweeps him up to his shoulders before passing up the cloth he’d used as a harness earlier.   
“Wrap this around yourself. I’ll tie it in front. Should give you some security in case you pass out again.”   
“I won’t-”  
“No shame in passing out. I pass out as often as I can.” He says it lightly, jokingly, trying to make Lagg feel at ease. He can feel the tension in Lagg’s legs where they rest against his neck and shoulders.   
“Well, we can’t all be alcoholics.”  
“WOW. Is that the thanks I get?”  
They both laugh. It wasn’t that funny but it was enough. Lagg leans into the back of Ulrich’s head and casually runs his fingers through his hair. It’s enough to make Ulrich wonder, for a moment, before berating himself for being stupidly optimistic at a time like this, in a place like this. It suddenly occurs to Ulrich how quiet and serious Lagg has been since regaining consciousness. He used to laugh so easily. Has time been cruel? Or just this place? Ulrich lets himself hope that once they’re both out of here they can get drinks and swap stories and laugh, like they used to do. 

The jungle quakes.   
Mordremoth is angry.   
The thought startles Lagg out of sleep and he looks around wildly, momentarily confused by how high above the ground he is.   
“Stupid dragon.”  
He doesn't think the words were directed at him but he asks anyway.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Spirits!” Ulrich stops and seems to clutch his chest for a moment. “I thought you were asleep!”   
“I was. What did you mean though?”   
“The quake made me lose my footing. We almost fell down there.” Lagg looks where Ulrich points. They're walking along a narrow branch, with only other branches to break their fall on the way to the ground, hundreds of feet below.   
“Ah. Very stupid dragon.”   
“I've been heading mostly northeast. Hopefully we're getting closer to that camp you mentioned?”   
Ulrich leaps from the branch towards a nearby cliff. Startled, Lagg clamps a head over his mouth to keep from screaming. They land, perched on the edge, and Ulrich chuckles.  
“Did you think I wouldn't make the jump?”  
The jungle shakes again, harder than the first time. Lagg can feel Ulrich lose his balance and throws his own weight forward, hoping he'll be enough to balance Ulrich's much greater weight.  
They fall. 

Ulrich grunts as he falls forward on his knees.   
“I cannot believe that worked!” Lagg laughs and then seems to think better of the noise; he continues in a whisper. “Take THAT, physics!”  
“Nah, I just have the reflexes of a cat.”  
Lagg snorts.   
“Wonder what's got the big ol’ bastard in such a tizzy anyway?” Ulrich dusts off his knees and continues through the jungle, giving the cliff a wide berth.  
“I heard a rumor that the commander took a group deeper into the jungle yesterday.”  
Ulrich nods. “I can only imagine the hijinks they're getting up to.”   
“Hijinks. Tizzy. I have missed your unique vocabulary, Ulrich.”  
“And I've missed you, Lagg.” Ulrich blurts it out, unthinking, and promptly feels his ears warm to a shade nearing crimson. Only silence greets this admission and he curses himself inwardly.   
“I remembered your name immediately….I have also missed you.”

Lagg hears movement in the foliage ahead. He pats Ulrich's shoulder and points, hoping he'll catch his meaning. He must, because the next thing Lagg is aware of is thick brown fur sprouting from Ulrich's skin. Lagg is almost knocked from his perch as Ulrich's large frame grows even larger.   
Thank the alchemy or the spirits or whoever is responsible for the norn ability to grow claws on demand.   
Lagg pats his ruined armor and finds a few throwing daggers he'd forgotten he had.   
Armed, the pair wait for whatever is in the bushes to come out and attack or to pass them unmolested.   
A white paw pushes leaves aside and steps into the clearing.   
“Oh! Hello!” The charr in front of them looks surprised to see them and an uncomfortable silence greets her words.  
Lagg clears his throat. “Apologies, friend. We have been a bit turned around. Are we near a pact camp?”  
The charr nods and gestures that they should follow. 

Lagg and Ulrich are led to separate tents by medics. Ulrich is sorry to see him go and worried by how much he limps as he walks away.   
Then he remembers that Lagg said he missed him too. As soon as the medic is done with him, he rushes over to Lagg's tent. Lagg is asleep when he arrives, his torso wrapped in bandages. Huffing impatiently, Ulrich drops down next to him and settles in to wait, trying not to berate himself for apparently doing a bad job at healing his friend. 

Lagg awakes feeling far too hot, an enormous weight sprawled across his body. Squinting sleepily down, he recognizes the back of Ulrich's head. He gently strokes the orange hair and Ulrich mutters in response.   
“Sorry?”   
“Huh?” Ulrich sits up and blinks down at Lagg.   
“You said something.”  
“Oh.” Ulrich's brow scrunches. “Felt good. The stroking, that is.”  
They sit in companionable silence as the camp bustles around them. Ulrich reaches out and takes one of Lagg's hands. Lagg doesn't pull away.   
Ulrich opens his mouth to speak, stops, considers.   
“You're safe now so there's something I want to say. After I've said it, if you want nothing to do with me, I'll...I’ll understand.”  
Then why do you look so hurt by the very suggestion that I might want nothing to do with you?  
“Um.” Lagg can sense that he's trying to choose his words carefully and starts to feel nervous.   
What could be so terrible?  
“Our friendship when you were in college meant a lot to me. I learned a lot from you and.”  
Lagg feels that if he were in a chair, he'd be at the edge of it.   
“I've discovered in recent years that the friendship meant more. Er. Not more. Differently to me than I'd really been aware at the time. I had...feelings for you.” Lagg presses his free hand against his mouth. Ulrich takes a huge breath and continues. “Seeing you again, the feelings are still there. And I know it's insane to hope that the feelings could be returned and I understand if you don't want to be friends with me because of them but if I didn't tell you now I probably never would so. Yeah.” He grins sheepishly. Lagg bites down on a knuckle. “Surprise! I'm gay!”

Ulrich has no idea what to make of Lagg's face or body language. He seems to be chewing on his own finger? Does he know he's doing that?   
Then Lagg starts giggling and the giggle turns into a full-body shaking cackle. Ulrich's stomach falls and he quickly runs a hand across his eyes. A passing human raises an eyebrow but says nothing. Then just as abruptly as they began, the laughs stop.   
“Ulrich! No! I'm not laughing at you!” He giggles again and wipes a tear from his eye. “And here I was, thinking it would be unrequited and that I was a fool for ever deluding myself otherwise. “  
Trying and failing to ignore the butterflies in his stomach, Ulrich starts to ask, “Do you mean-?”  
“I mean we are two big, gay idiots.” Lagg puts his other hand on top of Ulrich's, and smiles. “I am overjoyed to admit that I had and still have feelings for you too, you big softie.”


End file.
